The Pull: Why We Escape, Even When It Hurts

You can feel it.
That itch. That impulse. That quiet, heavy urge to leave.
Not to go anywhere in particular—just away.

Away from the thoughts.
Away from the silence.
Away from the version of yourself you can’t bear to sit with anymore.

For some, it’s drugs.
For others, it’s endless scrolling, porn, gaming, gambling, food, sex, alcohol, fantasy.
But underneath it all—it’s the same hunger.

Escape.

And if you’ve felt it—you’re not alone.
You're not weak.
You're not broken.
You're not “addicted” in the way they love to label people.

You’re disconnected.

What Are We Escaping?

Not the world.
Not really.

We’re escaping the unbearable weight of feeling empty in a world that won’t let us admit we are.

We’re running from:

• The pressure to perform when we’re exhausted inside.

• The shame of not living up to the mask we’ve built.

• The raw, silent ache of being disconnected from something real.

Drugs numb it.
Phones distract it.
Success tries to drown it.
But nothing fixes it.

Because it’s not about the substance.
It’s about the disconnect from soul.

The System Is Engineered for Escape

The modern world is not designed to make you whole.
It’s built to fragment you—then sell you coping mechanisms.

Your pain is profitable.
Your escape is predictable.
And your numbness is politically convenient.

So the system offers you escape routes on every corner.
Fast. Easy. Addictive.
Just enough relief to keep you coming back,
but never enough truth to actually heal you.

It doesn’t want you free.
It wants you sedated, smiling, and spending.

So What’s the Cure?

Not shame.
Not punishment.
Not another “routine” or “discipline plan.”

The antidote to the pull is presence.

The moment you stop running—truly stop—and sit with what you’ve been trying to avoid, something shifts. Slowly. Painfully. But honestly.

You feel the grief.
The fear.
The memory.
The loneliness.

And you survive it.

That’s the turning point.
Not when you quit the substance.
But when you reclaim the self that no longer needs it.

Final Word

Escaping is human.
But returning is power.

Every time you choose presence over distraction—
That’s a revolution.
Every time you face the ache instead of numbing it—
That’s sacred.

You’re not broken for wanting out.
You’re just being called back in.

And maybe that’s the truth no one talks about:
You were never meant to escape.
You were meant to remember.
And that’s the scariest, most important thing you’ll ever do.